


Lost Tales of the Falls

by ThatDarnLakeSiren



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: All Sorts of other Weird Stuffs, And More as I add Chapters, Blood, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Feel, Maybe some gore, Other, and heartache, read and find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDarnLakeSiren/pseuds/ThatDarnLakeSiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many stories untold in Gravity Falls . . . from things that never happened to things that could've happened. The slightest change in the story gives you an outcome you'd never expect; or ones you'd never want. The littlest detail suddenly blown into proportion by the grand scheme of things.</p><p>Here is a place where you can look and see all of the past, a bit of the future, and in any Au dimension you choose. These are the Lost Tales. . . .it's your choice whether you believe them or not. </p><p>(Requests approved! Au's! "What-if" ideas! And more!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magnus Uncus

**Author's Note:**

> My Drabble series; please don't be shy to send in requests or give me constructive criticism. 
> 
> I'll be putting a summary, an Au marker, and quick extra "Author's Note" at the front of each chapter, usually in the "Notes" section but sometimes not. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sum:  
> Bill makes a mistake and tries to fix it, but things only start to   
> get worse when a certain dream demon appears. However,  
> things take an unusual turn when he mentions his cousin . . .
> 
> Universe:  
> "Bill Sife and Dipper Demon"  
> Not canon at all.
> 
> A`N:  
> I don't have much to say about this. Enjoy

 

Bill ran as fast as he could, panting hard and flinching whenever he heard the, the . . . _creature_ roar and snarl. He pushes himself harder, sprinting the final length and managing -as usual- to trip over a tree root because of his clumsiness and slight limp, just when he was about to enter the clearing the Mystery Shack sat in.

The creature, some sort of winged mountain-lion, possibly a Were(like a Werewolf). He held still as he heard the creature approach, frozen stiff with fear. He wasn't sure where grunkle Stan was, but even so, how could he help him? He doesn't even _believe_  in the supernatural!

The creature snuffled and snarled over him, before gripping the back of his yellow vest in it's teeth, starting to lift him off the ground. There was a girl's scream and thump of footsteps, and suddenly, Mabel was there, beating at it with a shovel. She released it and stumbled back with another scream as it swiped at her, tearing through her pretty blue sweater and leaving five neat lines that were starting to bleed.

"LEFT HOOK!?" screamed a voice; a voice Bill knew well. He was dropped as the creature roared in pain. Bill flipped over onto his back and sat up, observing as his grunkle struck the beast again, managing to fend and chase it off.

Bill looked down in shame as Stan approached. He was in  _so_  much trouble. Instead of yelling at him or demanding an explanation, he merely scooped Mabel up, gently grabbed the kid by the shoulder to haul him up, too, and carried both into the house.

In the end, he drove both to the hospital to get checked over. Luckily, Mabel's clawed arm didn't need stitches and weren't as bad as they originally thought, but it didn't make Bill feel any less guilty about the incident.

He glanced over his clothes. A pair of black shorts, a white t-whit with black sleeves, a yellow vest with a shiny-gold brickwork pattern on them, a tiny little black bow-tie scribbled onto his shirt collar(probably with a Sharpie), black sneakers, and black socks. They were ruffled up and a bit more untidy than he usual maintained, from his brief flight through the forest.

He reached up and patted his half-messy half-neat, corn-yellow hair, frowning when he didn't find his top-hat. It was too tiny, even for him, more for a stuffed animal, but he always wore it. Come to think of it, his black curved cane was missing, too. He'd have to go look for those.

A thought occurring to him, he quickly patted himself down, letting out a relieved sigh when he felt the old leather of the journal, still safely tucked away in his vest. He looked up when Grunkle Stan approached, his "Responsible Adult Face" on, and feared the worst.

Bill easily picked up on the whole conman thing, and though Stan would probably never admit it, the little eight-year-old could probably out-con him. When he wasn't be a sarcastic idiot who ran towards imminent danger and laughed about it afterwards as if it were the most hilarious thing or he had everything under control when, really, he didn't at all; that is to say.

But now, looking at the kid, he seemed scared and guilty, possibly because Mabel had been hurt, tears welling up in his visible right eye, that was a pale baby blue color. His other eye was hidden underneath the kids hair, and Stan had honestly never seen it before. And, as far as he knew, neither had Mabel or anyone else.

He finally sighed, deciding to leave the questioning for later, in a more private setting. He knew well enough by now that Bill could be as silent as a rock and good at dodging or twisting around any topic he wanted in public, especially if he didn't want to talk about it.

So, he instead lead the kid to where he'd temporarily left Mabel, her arm wrapped in gauze and half-ruined sweater in a plastic bag. The drove home was silent. Mabel tried to make conversation with the usually talkative and sarcastic kid, but now, he remained utterly quiet, staring out the window and hugging himself, shrugging or making noncommittal noises to Mabel's attempt at conversation.

When they got home, Mabel almost instantly cleared out and high-tailed it to their shared attic bedroom, locking the door. Thus forcing Bill to talk to his Grunkle rather than run away and hide(the kid was also great at hiding and getting into the most impossible or insane places possible; like dangling from a windowsill of a second story building on the outside and _laughing_  about it)

"Come'on, kid." Stan grunted, walking towards the kitchen. It was early evening, and the hot day was starting to cool off a little. He sat down at the kitchen table and waited until Bill did likewise.

The kid hadn't made a sound, not a single jest or even a word, which was not like him at all. Stan rubbed his face. "How about we start with why you were being chased by a mountain lion?" he finally said, sounding exhausted from the long day.

For several long moments, Bill said nothing, staring out the window. Stan was about to repeat himself when the kid answered. "It was an accident . . .I didn't mean for her to get h-hurt . . ." tears filled his eyes and his voice became pleading and thick with tears. "I-I . . .I'm  _sorry_." he started sobbing, something that half-stunned the elder man, as the kid often acted older than his age(as surprising as that had been; everyone treated him like some immature, retarded child).

With a grunt, he stood and crouched before his great-nephew, gently turning him towards himself and gently wiping away his tears. "Hey, it's alright, no ones mad at you. I'm just worried, is all. You're still a little guy, and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt on my watch." he spoke softly and honestly, hoping to sooth the child.

Bill sniffled again, wiping away his tears. His left eye was visible a moment, but quickly hidden by the kids bangs once more. "I-I . . .I was just looking around when it started chasing me, honest! I didn't mean for her to get hurt!" it was almost an odd statement coming from Bill, since from what Mabel and her parents had told him, Bill usually ran  _towards_  trouble, and if he got hurt, he'd brush it aside and laugh about it as if it were some sort of a thrill ride.

Apparently getting hurt himself and being a cause of pain for family members really  _were_ different and mattered to the strange child.

Stan sighed, placing a large, calloused hand on the kids small, skinny shoulder. "Listen, Bill, I now that we may've gotten off to a rocky start, but I just want you to know that you can count on me to protect you and Mabel; alright? If you're ever in over you're head, just come find me or give me a shout and I'll give whatevers bugging you a good left hook and then a right hook for good measure! Alright?"

Bill nodded, a tiny smile worming it's way onto his face.

Stan stood, coughing into his fist to try and cover up his caring words. "Good. Come'on, let's make some hot cocoa and surprise you're cousin. Sound good?"

"Sounds good." Bill smiled, hopping up to follow his great-uncle Stan.

* * *

**~20-23-15~18-15-12-5-19~19-23-1-16-16-5-4~**

* * *

**~M~A~G~N~U~S~`~U~N~C~U~S~**

* * *

**~25-5-20~19-20-9-12-12~20-8-5-25~3-1-18-5~**

* * *

Bill stared up at the demon, clutching his cane nervously, black tophat slanted at a wild(er) angle(than usual) on his head from the previous blast of wind. He looked surprisingly familiar, for whatever reason, with his tousled brown hair, sorta-brown eyes with their golden pupils.

At first, the demon had the form of a blue, flat pine tree, like the image in journal three, with arms and legs and two large eyes that seemed to glare from the page, something akin to a baseball or trucker hat, and a tiny bit of smudged-up markings above the eyes. Now, he could see what lay there.

The Big Dipper, every dot and line perfectly matched up to the constellation. In this human form, the demon, named "Magnus Uncus", looked to be around eighteen-to-twenty years old, with a plain, dark blue suit, black shoes, white bolo tie and the blue and white hat propped on his head. His teeth were sharp, fingers ended in claws and he had pointed ears, and two large, bat-like wings flared out from his lower back, besides the golden, cat-like pupils staring him down within (familiar) brown iris's.

The hat, oddly enough, held a miniature "him" on it, you could say; but without the limbs, eyes, hat or strange birthmark. He glared down at the eight-year-old, arms crossed.

"Look, whaddya want, kid?" he finally snapped, patient clearly disappearing fast. "I don't usually take on this form, but I've found it helps with kids; if you've summoned me, it must mean you know I go easier on kids."

Bill shook his head, gathering himself up, cane tucked in the crook of one arm. "I want help." he finally got out, clearing his voice when he realized how squeaky it sounded.

The demon's frown deepened in thought, and he floated closer to the ground. "Listen, kid, I would love to help, but you gotta tell me what you want  _specifically_." he stressed the word.

Bill nodded, quickly flicking over options in his head. Something that would protect him and Mabel during the rest of the summer, but would wear off or go away when they went back home. Something strong enough to ward off most dangers or combat them, but not something that would make the seemingly-mentally-unstable child a threat or some kind of dangerous nutcase criminal.

He finally nodded. "I . . .I'd like to be able to learn some magic, to protect her."

The demon eyed him. "And what will you give me in return? And who's this 'her'? You're sister?" Magnus asked.

Bill looked down at himself. He couldn't hand over the journal, and he didn't have anything else to give. He finally looked back up at the demon. "I have nothing to give, but I want some magic or powers or something so I can protect Mabel; she's my older cousin."

The demon froze, face portraying realization and thought. He hummed for a moment, lost in whatever daydream or memory he was in. Finally, he looked back. "I'll give you a hand, kid, on one condition."

Bill nodded. "What is it?" he'd learned long ago from Grunkle Stan to always learn the full meaning behind a deal and what it's bounds encompassed, so you wouldn't be tricked or forced into something you didn't want or shouldn't have to do.

"Look after her. Protect her. Don't let anything happen to her. Keep her happy and support her when times are tough. Just-" here the demon huffed and paused, then continued. "Just look after my twin, alright? You ever need a hand, just give a shout and I'll channel some of my powers through you're staff there. It'll glow yellow from now on -after we shake on it, that is- when that happens. Got all that?"

Bill stared at him. "Your sister? But . . .Mabel doesn't have any siblings." he replied.

The demon stared at him, then sighed. "In this dimension; no, she doesn't. No one but you. But in another dimension . . ." he gave Bill a long, hard, searching stare that made him squirm inside, though he held still and stared straight back into the demons eyes. "Basically, in another dimension -since demons are able to traverse dimensions so as to speak to one another- I'm just a twelve year old boy, twin brother to Mabel Pines."

He paused, glancing at the kid and then away. "And in that same dimension, Bill Cipher is the demon."

"My name is Bill Sife Rashald." Bill replied, turning over this new information in his mind.

"True, but if it's just your last initial with the rest of that?" Magnus hinted.

Bill thought it over, then nodded. "So, wait, why are you helping me, exactly?" he asked.

Magnus thought this over. "Well, in short . . .the me in that one dimension. . . or in  _ONE_ of them, I should say . . . gets turned into a demon, instead of simply being one. I . . .when I focus hard enough, I can remember playing and having a twin sibling, and looking for mysteries and adventure like you are with that journal you found."

Bill nodded in response. This was a lot to take in for anyone, but Bill was a quick thinker and found a way to slide the puzzle pieces together just right. It was still a lot, though; other dimensions outside our own? Containing different versions of you? Woah, just . . .woah.

"Well . . .I just don't want anything bad to happen to Mabel. I want to protect her, but I'm bound by certain rules. It's a demon thing." he added by way of explanation. "Either way . . .even if she's  _not_  my sibling here . . . I can still sense that bond. That _twin_  bond. I just have a feeling . . .that no matter where we are or how far apart, that we'll always be family . . . and that it's my job to protect her . . ."

Bill nodded. "I think I understand." he gave his head a quick shake, tossing the hair out of his eyes. His right eye, while baby blue, was the only one that still possessed sight. His left eye was pale and cloudy-white over the iris and pupil, and a large burn mark was branded over it, becoming a pale powder blue, like Grunkle Stans' "tattoo".

It was in the shape of a triangle, with a faint outline of an eye, a top-hat, a bow tie, legs and arms. Something he'd gotten mysteriously during the fire that killed his parents when he was three, and left him with cousin Mabel and the Pines family ever since.

Magnus seemed disturbed by this, but nodded, holding out his hand as it flickered with blue flames. "So, just shake my hand and the deal is sealed. Kid?"

As soon as he saw the flames, Bill had flinched away, a far away look coming into his eyes. He could still remember the smoke and flames of the fire, the burning agony of his eye, and the terror-filled confusion as he was rescued, rushed to a hospital, and then sent to his cousins house.

Magnus extinguished the flames, realizing that he'd scared him, and sat cross-legged in midair, close to the ground. He patted one knee. "What's wrong?"

Bill snapped out of it and turned away, rubbing self-consciously at his eye. "It's nothing." he replied quickly. "Fire just makes me . . . .nervous." he said at last.

Magnus nodded in understanding, slowly offering his hand again. "I can promise you that it is painless and will take less then ten seconds."

Bill nodded, and took the now-flaming hand, shaking it, though he refused to look at the flames themselves.

Bill looked at the demon as he stretched his wings and arms. "Well, Cipher, it's been hanging with you but I've got other places to go." he snapped his fingers, and Bills cane lit up a bright, warm yellow. "You ever need my help, just give a shout and keep your cane close. You can use it to channel my powers. I'll teach you more on that at another time, alright?"

Bill nodded again, watching as his cane faded to black again. I do have one more question, though." he voiced.

The demon leaned closer, smiling a toothy grin, too wide for a human face. "Sure, kid, what is it?" he asked.

"What does your name, 'Magnus Uncus' mean? I know it's Latin, but I want to know it's personal meaning to you."

The demon froze, then smiled again, a small, friendly one. "Well, it translates into 'Large Scoop' directly. My actual nickname doesn't quite translate through exactly. But hey-! Large Scoop, Big Dipper, same difference." he smiled again.

"Wait, like the Big Dipper in the sky and on your forehead?" Bill blurted.

The demon seemed about to anger, then just smiled again. "Bingo, kid. Now, I gotta go." he shifted into his previous pine-tree-esque form, before yelling out something and vanishing.

" _NowRemember_! _RealityIsHow YouConceiveIt, TheUniverseIsSmaller ThanYouThink, ProtectMabel, BYYYEEEE_!?" in a large flash of light, he was gone.

Bill gasped and blinked open his eyes, glancing around quickly. The candles were still there, though blown out, and the picture frame he'd set up in the center was there, too, his small face beaming out, the eyes crossed out in red.

Bill glanced around once more, stood, and slowly walked back towards the Mystery Shack.

In the bushes nearby, one Mabel Pines and one Soos Ramirez watched the scene, shocked and surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a few little fun facts.
> 
> -1# I based Demon!Dipper off of descriptions I've heard from the Transcendence Au, and thought it'd be fun to toggle between a human)ish) form and his demon form. In this particular universe, there's a triangle with an eye where the Pine Tree would be on the Cipher Circle(Or, the Pine-Tree Circle, per this universe), and Demon!Dipper's Pine Tree form is in the center. (And yes, I referenced the Transcendence Au in there . . .somewhere)That's why he called him "Cipher" at the end there, since that's his symbol on his wheel/circle.
> 
> 0# Grunkle Stan is acting the way he is here because without Dipper to keep an eye on Mabel, she's a lot more prone to running around and making a not-so-good decision. As for Bill . . . the kid can (mostly) look after himself, but needs more delicate handling to make sure he's alright and well. He's very stubborn when he wants to and doesn't often accept help, since most people think he's mental and bullies him for it. Coming out to Great Uncle Stans place was perfect because there was no one to judge him, but he could still be himself out in the woods.
> 
> 1# "Magnus Uncus" really does translate into "Large Scoop". I couldn't find any direct translation that got me "Big Dipper", so I used the next best thing. It's in Latin, in case you're wondering.
> 
> 2# Bill, while still sarcastic and thinking almost getting himself killed is "fun", he has human emotions and is a little kid, as well as being traumatized when he was little, so of course he's going to act differently as a human than his demon persona.
> 
> 3# My version of Human!Bill is a conman like Stan, uses sarcasm to try and hide is fears and worries from others, and likes to fling himself into danger, since for him it's fun to be able to sidestep whatever is coming at him and escape unscathed(mostly).
> 
> 4# Related to the previous one; This makes most people think he's nutty, but he's not. He just finds fun in different ways, and possesses a quick mind and can find certain "adult" topics like politics or things that are otherwise complicated and solve or comprehend them very easily in his mind, while he as struggles with seemingly simple things, like squirt-gun fights or tag, though he's so good at hide-and-seek that no one cane find him unless he wants to be found.
> 
> 5# Bill is deathly afraid of being all alone in the dark, since he's scared of . . . something that'll come out of it to hurt/kill/eat him. He often has nightmares about it, but he can never describe whatever was attacking him. He just calls it a "thing". "A Thing that comes out of the Darkness to hurt me and tries to kill me."
> 
> 6# Bill dresses similarly to how he dresses in my Monster Falls Au story I'm developing, the main difference being it's causal wear, rather than a suit and tie, and he has tiny, triangular "hims" burned on the back of each hand, rather than his eye. I haven't decided yet if his limp will cross over into that Au, but it's definitely a possibility.
> 
> 7# In my version of Monster Falls Au, Bill is more like a kid who has little memory of his past, and while he still calls people by their symbol, he doesn't "know" them, nor recall what the symbols mean. He gets himself into a lot of trouble, because h's learning more and more about human mortality every time he almost-kills himself.  
> Usually, after he gets himself hurt in a more minor way(broken arm, small flesh wound) he'll start shouting "Not hilarious! Not hilarious!? NOT HILARIOUS!?" in remaint of him saying "Pain is hilarious!" when he possessed Dipper.


	2. The Hand that Attacks the Sife-R.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sum:  
> Trouble comes for a certain boy and his cousin sooner rather than later.  
> And, while Bill should've been more on his guard, he's quickly learning  
> that trusting the little white-haired twerp was a very, very bad idea.
> 
> Universe:  
> "Bill Sife and Dipper Demon"  
> Not canon at all
> 
> A`N:  
> Again, I hope this is acceptable. I tried really hard on it.  
> Yeah, the name is a pun for the episode "The Hand that Rocks  
> the Mabel". I think you can guess how this'll go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> If you dislike cursing or cussing, then don't read. Happens only once, and in his defense, well justified. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bill wasn't sure what to expect when he approached the warehouse atop the hill. All he knew was that Toby Determined was a weird guy and he kinda liked weird people.

Mabel was weird; in a good way. If anyone else said that about his cousin, he'd nail them in the face with his cane and punch them in the crotch. Grunkle Stan was weird; he conned people and could tell funny-fake stories, besides teaching Bill himself how to be a conman.

When he finally made it up the hill, he paused and leaned against the door, panting a little as he gave his leg a rest. While he pretended -and everyone seemed to buy it- that he only used his cane as a sort of prop, he actually needed it to move himself around, and that, at the very least, it helped him. He'd had a limp for years, and his leg wasn't getting any better.

He stood, straightened out his clothes and readjusted his top-hat, then pushed open the doors and walked inside. His cane went  _tap tap_ on the hard cement floor as he went. It was dark, and that alone made him wary of what was to come.

Something wasn't right here. "Toby?" he called out, jumping when the sound echoed. The place was bigger than he thought. He hand't even turned to leave when the door slammed shut, making him jump a good foot in the air before limping swiftly towards it, dropping his cane to try the doorknob with one hand and pound on it with the other.

Lights started flashed on overhead dramatically, and he quickly put on an unimpressed look on his face as he turned towards whoever-it-was, bending over at a leisurely pace to grab his cane, leaning on it. With the lights, he could see a chair at the far end, and it suddenly swiveled around, revealing none other than Gideon Gleeful, playing with a toy doll . . . of himself.

Bill frowned a moment. "Wow, you're  _way_ creepier than I originally imagined. Even  _MY_ ego isn't so big that I need tiny me's scattered all over the place." he finished, looking around and taking note of all the Gideon-related memorabilia scattered around the warehouse.

Gideon frowned, but brushed the comment aside, playing around with the doll in his lap. "So, Bill Sife-R., how long have you been in this town? A week? Two? You like it here?  _Enjoy the scenery_?" his last sentence was a little more intense and full of . . .Bill couldn't quite lay his finger on it, but it wasn't good.

"What do you want, pipsqueak?" he replied instead, taking on a bored, neutral expression, his voice matching it perfectly. Inside, he was already growing scared, but he knew that revealing that to this twerp would only make things go downhill quickly; or, quicker than it _would_ , anyhow.

"Listen carefully, boy. This town has secrets you couldn't  _begin_  to comprehend." his voice held intent and intensity, a clear warning hidden behind his words.

Bill put on a large, well-meant grin. "Oh, really? Hadn't guessed." he suddenly frowned, glaring ever-so-slightly at the older boy. "Is this about Mabel? I already told you, pipsqueak, she doesn't like you! She wanted to be friends still, but you're creepiness pushed her away, you weirdo." Bill huffed a little at the end, leaning back slightly to scowl in disgust.

He had yet to know if he was playing his cards right, but he just knew, somewhere deep inside himself, that he couldn't screw this up. There was a certain foreboding that unsettled him deeply, and he could nearly taste the danger that lay about here.

"LIAR!" Gideon shouted, cute facade broken, pointing accusingly at Bill with his next words. "You turned her against me!" he jumped from the chair and stalked towards Bill, a certain glint in his eyes as he grasped his bolo tie. "She was my peach dumplin'!" he continued.

"Well,  _someone's_  upset." Bill huffed disinterestedly, rolling his eye. Gideon raised his hand in the air, and Bills' eyes widened when he saw himself lifting off the ground. He kicked his legs a little, grasping his cane tightly. With a wave of his hand, the crazy, white-haired child flung him across the warehouse and into a bunch of boxes, which were none-to-soft.

A Li'l-Gideon doll fell into in front of him and squeaked. He picked it up and it said "Howdy!" in a cheerful voice that in no way reflected what the real one was.

"Readin' minds isn't all I can do." Gideon said with a smirk, towering over the smaller boy.

 _'No kidding,'_  Bill thought, though he put on a careless expression. "Oh, really, mister fakes-a-lot." he replied, carefully to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Oh, tell me Bill, is  _this_  fake?" Gideon asked, raising his right hand while clutching the bolo tie with his left. Boxes glowed and opened on their own, floating upwards as whatever was inside -all of it related to Gideon- floated out.

Bill's eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet, dodging left and right as Gideon laughed madly and flung things at him. Bill managed to always keep the twerp in the corner of his eye -at the least- as he swerved to and fro, watching his hand move; for whenever he swung it about, something came at him, meaning he could use the older childs movements as a way to guess at the next attack.

He even managed to use his cane to deflect some of the incoming objects. All of this simply added to the older childs fury, however, as the attacks, which were previously slow and lazy, like a cat playing with a mouse -as Bill then realized- suddenly became more serious and vicious.

He could barely get out of the way, his leg was now beginning to ache fiercely now and he couldn't make much use of his cane from all the sudden twists and turns he had to make now. A sudden flurry of glass plates or clocks -maybe both- suddenly attacked him, driving him another way, closer to the wall. Bill caught a large amount of the unnatural glow right in front of him, and say the shelf that rocked back and forth.

With a muted gasp, he managed to dodge aside, tumbling end-over-end and stopping suddenly with his back against the wall. Miraculously, he had managed to hang onto his cane.

"I knew Grunkle Stan was right!" Bill exclaimed angrily, no intent of keeping up the clueless, careless facade any longer. "You are a monster!" Bill shouted, waving his cane towards the other threateningly.  _'Just keep it up, Sife,'_ he told himself. _'Just keep it up long enough to get out. Once in the woods, he won't be able to get you and you can warn Mabel! **Protect**  Mabel!'_he told himself.

"You're friend will be mine!" Gideon cackled madly, then pulled the string on a doll of himself and it laughed, too; just less menacingly.

Bill grit his teeth, leaped to his feet, and charged at Gideon, ready to use his cane as a weapon as he got closer.

"Who's a cute little guy? You are." Gideon said to the doll, distracted. "No, you are!" the doll 'replied' back. He suddenly noticed the blond-haired child when he grunted loudly, cane held over his shoulder like a baseball bat, ready to go.

He grabbed his tie and raised his hand upwards, catching the younger in the magic's grasp and lifting him off the ground. Bill didn't lose his cane, though he did kick initially at the lack of ground under his feet.

"She's never gonna date you, you old-man-haired, _pale-butt-faced, idiot-cheating- **BASTARD**_ **!** " Bill shouted, completely losing it, glaring hard. He was  _really_  going to pound this twerp after this.  _NO ONE_  who acted this way was allowed anywhere  _near_  his cousin.

"That's a lie." Gideon replied fiercely, a malicious grin growing on his face as he glanced to the side. "And I'm gonna make sure you  _never_  lie to me again, friend." he said 'friend' in a way that Bill knew meant the exact opposite, and he stared in growing horror as a pair of large scissors rose out of the box, approaching the vest-wearing kid, who struggled to move.

To his utter dismay and mounting panic, he couldn't move his arms from his sides, nor kick his legs, to defend himself. His only comfort was the cane held tightly in his left hand, which he gave a small squeeze to try and ground himself. So he could think of a way out of this. For  _Mabel_.

 _'Mabel!'_  his mind exclaimed, eyes widening as he spotted her biking up the path.  _'If I could stall the twerp somehow . . .'_  Gideon paused a moment when he heard Bill laughing, practically cackling at some unknown joke.

"What's so funny? I've defeated you!" Gideon snapped angrily, continuing the scissors progress towards the other boy.

Bill continued to snicker, grinning as wide as possible. "Do you really think she'll go out with you? After  _this_?" he emphasized the word. The scissors didn't slow. In fact, they seemed to speed up.

"After what?" Gideon demanded.

"After she finds my dead, bloody body in your warehouse." Bill replied casually. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he spotted Mabel peeking in the window, a look of surprise and terror on her face. The scissors stuttered to a halt a foot from his neck, and he grinned wide, crazily so, at Gideon, egging him on in an attempt to make him change his mind; or at least to stall him.

"Gideon, we have to talk!" Mabel exclaimed, coming in the door.

Gideon had a surprised expression on his face as he whirled around, and Bill breathed a quick sigh as the scissors, moments away from biting into his neck, lost the magic glow around them, bounding off of his chest and clanging as they hit the floor.

Gideon said something, and Mabel said something back, but Bill was tuning them out in favor of taking deep, calming breaths. He opened his eyes wide when he felt something choking him, managing to flail a hand near his neck, but not actually grasping it, gripping his cane so tightly that his knuckles turned white with the other.

"M-mabel!" he choked out, gasping for breath, panic in his eyes. "M-mabel, d-don't trus-ACK!?" he choked and sputtered for air, trying to get the message through that Gideon was not to be trusted.

Mabel said something, and Gideon replied, then there was a brief rip sound as Mabel shouted angrily. As Bill fell against the ground and gasped for air, coughing, he heard Mabel shout "No, not really! You were like, _attacking_  my cousin! What the heck!" she half-screamed at Gideon, her anger and protectiveness clear in her voice.

"My tie, give it back!" Gideon pleaded, sounding panicky.

Bill stood, leaning heavily on his cane, but managed to backpedal and catch the tie when Mabel threw it his way. He waved it teasingly. "Ha. still a fa-!" was all he managed to get out before Gideon screamed in rage and tackled him, sending them both crashing through the window and off the cliff.

Bill lost the tie, his hat, and his cane when it happened. He screamed in rage and managed to punch Gideon in the face, though not after being slapped by the little twerp.

"You promised! You promised not to hurt her!" he howled at the ten-year-old.

"I never said anything about YOU!" Gideon screamed in reply to the eight-year-old, the two now tumbling end-over-end as they attacked eachother. Bill managed to get another punch in when he realized how close to the ground they were.

Both kids screamed in fear and dropped the fight, throwing up hands to try and shield themselves or just plain closing their eyes to accept their fate.

Bill was the one to close his eyes. Both were visible now, hair whipped back to reveal the cloudy, sightless orb, the brand standing out starkly on his face.

Everything suddenly grew still. At first, he thought he was dead, and felt glad that it had been a painless death. He was now hovering upright in place, Gideon's panting in his ears . . .wait. . .

Bill opened his eyes to find both him and Gideon floating above the ground -though the white-haired idiot was upside down- and looked up, smiling when he saw Mabel, the moon behind her and glow surrounding her making her look majestic and beautiful. She floated down, the magic disappearing around her and landing easily on the ground.

Bill now noticed that, in her other hand, she held his hat and cane. He couldn't help but smile at that.

"Listen, Gideon, it's  _over_." she leaned in and said to his face. "I will never, ever date you." her face was hard and stony, so unlike her usual cheerful, upbeat personality.

"Yeah!" Bill exclaimed triumphantly, grunting when Mabel released the magics hold on them, dropping both him and Gideon to the ground. She then threw the bolo-tie at a rock, shattering it in a cloud of teal-green smoke.

Gideon flinched, then exclaimed, "My powers!" he stood, glaring at them. He backed away into the shadows, both hands outstretched and pointing at them. "Oh, this isn't over." he warned. "This isn't the last you'll see. Of widdle. Old. Me." Gideon disappeared among the trees.

Bill stood with a wince, seeing something shiny digging into his bare arm, wincing as the adrenaline wore off and the sharp pain made itself known. He hid his arm, however, when Mabel stepped up next to him, both watching Gideon run off, glancing at eachother.

"I'm creepier than you'll ever be, Gideon!" he shouted after the white-haired kid. "And don't ever forget it!"

Mabel offered his hat and cane, but gasped as Bill accepted them, leaning on his cane and placed his hat on his head. "Bill, you're arms!" she pointed out the sharp shards of glass, blood already starting to drip on the ground from the worst of them.

Bill grunted in reply, gripping the largest he could see on his right arm and unceremoniously ripping it out. There was little emotion on his face; it was blank. Mabel gasped, hands covering her mouth in shock as Bill tossed it aside, seemingly uncaring.

He was screaming in pain inside. The blood began to flow harder on that spot, and he watched it drip to the ground for several seconds before yanking out the next one.

Mabel watched in growing horror. It was the look of straight, pain-free blankness that disturbed her most.

Third. Pause. Stare. Drip, drip. Fourth.

She was frozen, watching as subtle hints of a grin of delight grew on her little cousins face.

Eighth. Snicker. Stop. Snicker again. Drip, drip. Drip, drip. Eleventh.

As he began to chuckle gleefully, holding the twelfth and final piece in his hand, blood already staining it, he tossed it away and chuckled harder. "Hilarious." he got out between laughs. "Just plain hilarious." he snickered again, eyes opening to find Mabel staring at him in utter horror.

His laughter stopped at once. His grin fell, and dead-serious worry and concern filled him. He tucked his injured right limb in close, cane grasped tightly to his chest over it, looking uncertain and scared, pain clear in his baby-blue eye, drawn-together eyebrows, and pressed lips as he glanced at Mabel and then away.

Mabel snapped out of it and stepped forward and gently pulled his hurt arm free, hissing in sympathy as she observed the several small wounds, some deeper than others and sure to scar. She pulled her sweater off and wrapped it around the injured limb, as tightly as she dared, half-worried and half-satisfied to hear a small whimper and see the wince her cousin gave to it.

It was  _lots_  better than him laughing about the pain, or the blankness of expression before that. She gently picked him up, holding him princess-style in her arms, carrying him away.

"I'm sorry . . ." Bill said softly.

Mabel barely caught the words. "It's alright." she tried to assure him. "You're safe, I'm safe. We just need to get Grunkle Stan to bandage you up when we get home." she carefully readjusted her grip on him. The small child didn't weigh very much compared to her, and was a little smaller than Gideon, besides. It was easy to carry him.

Bill closed his eyes, huffing. "No, it's not." he told her. "I made you scared . . .scared of  _me_." tears began to pool in his eyes. "And that's  _not_ okay . . ." he whispered.

Mabel frowned in thought. "Why  _were_  you laughing?" Bill flinched at the idea. "It's okay. If you talk about, maybe you'll feel better; plus, I'll know what's going on next time and won't be as worried. And besides, I'm worried  _for_  you, not scared  _of_  you." she finished with a braces-filled smile.

Bill took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Well, I was trying to think of something funny, to distract myself from the pain. It was the look on Gideon's face when I called him this one name, right before spotting you biking up the hill. I wanted to think of something pleasant, or better, because my arm hurt so bad. . . ." he trailed off, closing his eyes again.

Mabel hummed in thought, nodding slowly. "That makes sense." she smiled wide. "And that's okay; it's a way for you to cope, a special way that helps you work through the pain!"

Bill grinned at her, opening his eyes. "Alrighty, then." he replied. "After I get fixed up, can we make some hot-cocoa?" he asked. Mabel cheered in response, speeding up as Bill laughed happily.

He then broke off short and gained a half-scared expression, turning to bury his face into Mabels shirt to hide his sudden bout of tears at the thought as he mumbled something out.

"What was that?" Mabel asked quietly. Bill hardly ever cried, and then it was usually because he'd woken up from a nightmare.

He glanced at his bloody, sweater-bound arm before repeating it, and Mabel knew exactly why.

"Don't tell Stan."

* * *

"Heh. I coulda had it all." Stan sighed, before turning back to the kids sat in his armchair. He quickly took note of the bandages wrapping tightly around both of Bill's arms, as well as some blood evident on the kids clothes, besides some bruises and scuff marks here and there. Mabel appeared unscathed. Both seemed exhausted and glum.

"What the heck happened to you two?" he asked, concerned.

"Gideon." Mabel replied.

"Gideon." Bill echoed, his usual grin gone in replace of a tired, pained frown.

" _Gideon_." grumbled Stan, cracking open a Pitt soda and going over to sit on the T-Rex skull next the chair. "The little mutant swore vengeance on the whole family." he paused to snicker. "I guess he's going to nibble my ankles or something.

Bill immediately grinned, though it wasn't near as wide as usual, giggling at the idea. "Well, I can nibble HIS ankles! And besides, we destroyed his powers! What's he gonna do? Try and guess what number we're thinking of?" he giggled again.

"He'll  _never_  guess what number I'm thinking of; negative eight! No one would guess a  _negative_ number!" Mabel exclaimed next to her cousin.

They all laughed about that, Bill perking up to smile at his cousin, sitting up a little and managing to ignore the deep ache in his arms. They hadn't found any good pain meds for him to take. Something to ask Stan later. But for now, he remained quiet and covered up the pain with not only his laughter, but the laughter of his family, too.

"Oooh, look out!" Stan mocked, still laughing with them, pulling them both closer to him with one arm. "I bet he's planning our destruction right now!" he pushed himself over the edge of the armrest and landed on top of the smaller two, all three still laughing their hearts out at the silliness of it.

Bill couldn't help but feel a clear, distinct twinge of worry, however. Gideon had seemed dead-serious about getting revenge on them. And, however he found that amulet, whether he stumbled across it or found it somewhere after learning about it, then he'd probably -definitely- be able to find a better replacement and get back at them.

A worried, thoughtful frown slipped onto his face and his laughter petered off. Grunkle Stan finally climbed off of them, still chuckling, but it broke off when he saw the younger kids expression. It wasn't his usual super-wide, excited grin. He was frowning, and the look never really fit right on the young blonde-haired boys face.

"Hey, what's up with you?" Stan grunted, trying to hide that he cared.

Bill looked up in surprise, then grinned wide. "Well, I scraped up my arms right-good earlier and Mabel promised we'd make hot cocoa with you!" he said cheerfully, but with clear notes of disappointed sadness. He made a bit of a pleading, hopeful face up at Stan and shaking his right arm in above the ground. "But you weren't here! Could you please . . ?" the kid begged.

Stan made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. "Fine, you little gremlin." he grunted, sounding less-than-pleased, but he slapped on a grin and scooped the child up, which Bill giggled over, and walked towards the kitchen, Mabel following quickly after them, pausing only to grab her younger cousins dropped hat and temporarily forgotten cane.


	3. A Tale of Two Twins (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sum:  
> The twins wake up to a scream in the middle of the night.  
> Upon finding Grunkle Abel crying in his bedroom, they  
> don't know what to think, but do their best to comfort him.
> 
> Internally, it only further drives the knife stuck in his  
> heart deeper. Externally, he tells the boys that he loves them  
> and appreciates their efforts greatly, besides promising  
> to tell them what it was about tomorrow . . .
> 
> And when they discover a certain device under the  
> Mystery Shack, they learn exactly why he had been crying that night.
> 
> Universe:  
> Swapped Roles  
> (Basically, it's the same but  
> with different people in different  
> places than they would be)
> 
> A`N:  
> I just got to thinking on how people in the "Ageswap Au"  
> replace little Stans with Dipper and Mabel and vice-versa  
> and so on with the rest of the cast. Well, if it still applies after  
> "A Tale of Two Stans", that means that Mabel would've been the one  
> thrown out, as painful as that is and everyone would try to play it  
> differently. So here's the blatant truth, people! Enjoy! ;-P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for clarification:
> 
> Stanley = Grunkle  
> Stanford = Author

A scream sounded through the quiet house. Lee and Ford jolted upright from their beds. They immediately looked to the other twin. Frowned when they realized the other was alright. Brown eyes widened in unison and they jumped from their beds. A pause with Ford as he groped for and put on his glasses. A second pause as both stopped in the hallway, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness out there, as opposed to the left-on, dusky lantern light in their room.

Only one other person was in the house this late at night.

Grunkle Abel.

The twins scampered down the hall, quickly opening the door to their Grunkles room. He was sitting up and hunched over on the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed. Neither Ford nor Lee had ever seen their Grunkle anything like this. Sparing one more glance at eachother, they hurried over and clambered up on the bed, getting on either side of their Grunkle.

While Lee merely cuddled into the older mans side, Ford rubbed his back and told him it was alright. After a few minutes, their efforts were rewarded as he calmed down. He wiped the tears away and pulled the other two into a hug.

He smiled down at them, murmuring quiet thanks before nudging them off the bed and towards the door. They both left, stealing glances back and shutting the door behind them. They knew him well enough by now to know that that was as much of a response they were going to get. After an unspecified event years and years ago, Abel Pines had become something akin to a mute, only speaking when he really had too.

Or when he was scamming tourists, and then his voice was loud, clear, and rather booming and deep. All part of the act. Getting him to talk could be rare, but his lack of words couldn't hide how much he cared for those around him, even if he could be a little rough around the edges. His actions often spoke louder than words, besides gestures, grunts, "hmph"s, and other assorted non-word sounds were enough to convey and hold short conversations.

At least, with the twins. And Fidds. And maybe the teen who manned the register, Dan, though that was debatable.

* * *

Ford couldn't believe it. Staring out at the device with his twin and their handyman friend Fiddleford, he just couldn't believe it. After all this time, their Grunkle Abel had been . . .creating some sort of doomsday device! He'd also lied about the journals! He had the other two, the first with a single Pine Tree and the second with two, golden things that lay on the covers. All the while he possessed the third with his twin, and Abel had never said a word of the others!

Fidds was rambling on about how long it must've taken to build this, mostly under his breath, while Lee was just staring, wide eyed.

" **T-minus, one minute and thirty seconds**." a computer-voice said, spurring the three into action. Quickly, they went to the three keys on the control-panel thing in the room with the deadly device, turning them in their slots. The lever, nearer the portal than Ford liked, made a popping sound, a cover snapping off on the top and a large red button revealed.

They walked over. Ford glared at it, anger over the lies welling up. Just last night, he thought that nothing was wrong except his Grunkles tears, but now . . . .

He held a hand out over the button. "This all ends . . . now!" he shouted. Before he could swat it, someone shouted behind them.

" _Don't press that button_!" it wasn't quite as deep as their Grunkles voice, but there he was, huffing and panting, a hand clutching at the doorframe. He walked forward cautiously. "Ford, please, don't press that button, you gotta trust me."

"Why should we trust you? After you lied to us? I don't even know who you are!" Ford shouted, taking a step towards him, gesturing wildly.

Grunkle Abel all but flinched back, taking the blow from the words harder than his glasses-wearing great-nephew would've thought. It made him pause a moment. They simply stared at eachother; and then something made a beeping noise.

Grunkle Abel looked at his watch, eyes widening in panic. "O-oh no!" he choked out, voice cracking and going from semi-deep to a higher pitch. "Brace yourselves!" he urged, waving his hands in front of him.

In that moment, the gravity seemed to turn off, sending them all floating in various directions. Fidds practically shrieked, flailing and slamming into the wall to the left of the portal, close to the ceiling. Grunkle Abel yelped, bracing himself as he slammed into the back wall chest-first. He wheezed and placed an arm over his chest, taking a moment to reorient himself. Ford managed to latch onto a steady support beam, glasses luckily still on his face, more towards the right of the portal.

"Ford!"

Ford turned, spotting his brother floating near the lever, foot caught on some cord or rope. "Lee! Shut it off!" he shouted to him.

Lee gave him a terrified look before bending over and grabbing the rope, pulling himself along with low grunts.

"No!" Grunkle Abel launched himself off the far wall, practically swimming in midair towards his great-nephew. Only to grunt and be spun end-over-end when Fidds rammed into his side, clutching his arm and yanking at the short hair, clinging despite the shoving he was receiving. "Get off, Fiddles, what're you doing!" his voice rose in pitch, shoving at the thirteen-year-old, though there wasn't much force behind it, the attempts halfhearted even if his tone was desperate.

"Sorry Mr. Pines, if that is your real name! But I have a new mission now! Protecting those twins!" he shouted in reply.

Ford quickly lunged out, tackling and stopping the forward motion of the other two, hovering in place not ten feet from his brother, who now clung to the lever. Lee was staring at this whole scene wide-eyed, not sure what to do. Despite the obvious solution of swatting the button and shutting the machine down, he felt . . . unable too.

"Lee, hit the button!" Ford cried out, clinging to his Grunkles coat as the older man tried to shove or yank him off.

"No, no, don't! Lee, you gotta listen to me! OW!?" Ford had dug his fingers into his side and chest, preoccupying him as he tried to get him to let go.

All three froze as soft sobbing met their ears. They looked over as one, grips relaxing slightly, but not letting go. Watching as tears floated upwards instead of rolling down Lee's cheeks.

"Gr-grunkle Abel, I don't even know if . . .if your my Grunkle!" he cried, hugging the lever like he wished he could be hugging a person, preferably his brother. Abel flinched hard at these words, a guilty expression flitting through his eyes.

"I wanna believe you, but . . ." he trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious.

Abel held out his hands beseechingly. "Then listen. Remember last night how I promised to tell you what my nightmare was about today? How it was about something that scared me and would soon come up before summer ended?" he asked.

"T-minus thirty seconds." the electronic voice spoke again. Just after, the portal flashed, sending the other three flying into the far wall.

It knocked Lee off balance, but he clutched the lever with one hand, other raised to hit the button.

"Wait, please!" Abel cried, some small tears falling from his eyes and floating towards upwards. Sobs began to shake his shoulders.

Lee stopped, watching. Fidds and Ford, on either side of Abel, but out of reach, stared.

Finally wiping at his eyes, he gestured a little with on hand, other stuck underneath a pipe or something he'd half-crushed with the impact against the wall. "I wanted to tell you that no matter what happens, no matter how bad everything looks or confusing it is, that I'll always be your family. Nothing can ever change that or stop me from caring about the both of you."

"What if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe, Lee, listen to your head!" Ford insisted, now in a crouching position on the wall, staring at his twin desperately.

"Lee, please! Everything I've worked for, everything I  _care about_ , it's all been for  _this family_!" Abel insisted, rubbing at his eyes again as more tears floated upwards.

"Don't listen to him! Shut it down, now!" Ford insisted, beginning to panic more, letting it show.

"Look into my eyes, Lee!" Abel insisted, continuing when the brunette turned his head from the portal to look at him. "Do you really think I'm a bad guy?"

Lee looked down at the button, hand hovering over it. He looked up a moment, taking a deep breath before closing his eyes. "Grunkle Abel," he said aloud, raising his voice so everyone could hear him.

" **Ten, nine, eight,** " the electronic voice counted down.

Raising his hands above his head, he let go of the lever, floating upwards away from it, framed by the glowing portal behind him to the other three. "I trust you."

"Lee, are you crazy?!" Ford demanded, hurt inside, but more worried for his twin than anything. "We're all gonna-!?"

" **-two, one, zero.** " the voice said.

The portal activated; one by one, they all screamed. On the surface, in the town, everything began to rise up, going crazy as people freaked out. Things floated about underneath the Shack, everyone temporarily unconscious.

A picture frame with the two young Pines twins cracked across the glass before shattering. Then, the gravity returned to normal, everything crashing back down. Everyone grunted as they landed, groaning as they sat up.

Grunkle Abel flexed his right wrist only once with a low whimper. When the gravity had returned, he'd twisted and strained it terribly because of the pipe. It ached, but he shoved the pain aside.

The portal flickered, close to going out. Someone appeared on the other side, stepping through. Their hood, scarf, and goggles made it impossible to see their face, and the light cast from the portal, flickering slowly out, left him swathed in shadows besides. He stopped at the first journal, reaching down, fingers ghosting over the golden metal of the lone Pine Tree, the " **1** " written in ink in the middle.

Picking it up, he straightened and tucked it inside his vest, underneath the coat.

Ford looked up, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Wh-what? Who  _is_  that?" he asked.

Grunkle Abel slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, biting his lip to keep from crying out as his wrist protested being used. "The Author of the journals . . ." he breathed out, managing to keep the pain hidden.

The other man pulled of the goggles and threw back the hood, his intense stare settled firmly on Abel. He looked exactly like the other in face, in the brown eyes that stared out, relief, anger, and disbelief clear, and some mystery emotion drifting through, focused solely on the other man. The only real discernible thing between them was the stubble coating the other's jaw.

Otherwise, they were exact twins.

" . . . my brother . . ." Abel finished, eyes welling with tears that he refused to let fall.

* * *

Ford and Lee stood shoulder to shoulder, gaping in shock. Fidds stood just behind them, mirroring their reactions, though he'd gone pale; it was entirely possible that he might faint.

"I . . . I can't believe it. . . this whole time . . .why!?" Ford suddenly turned from awed shock to anger, rounding on Grunkle Abel. "Why didn't you ever tell us?! We could've helped!" he wiped at his eyes furiously, refusing to felt his tears fall. "You, you, you . . . ." he broke off, glaring down at his shoes.

Fidds couldn't help but half-hide behind Lee. This new Mr. Pines looked kinda scary. Or at least, he was intimidating.

Abel pulled himself to his feet, biting his lip to hold back small sounds of pain. The other slowly stepped forward, brow furrowed in confusion. He reached out cautiously, then drew back, suddenly suspicious.

"I do I know you're not the shape-shifter? You look exactly like me!" he demanded, voice deep and actually very close to the Abels', who had a slightly higher pitch.

Abel flinched back, cringing, tears starting to fall as he grasped his wrist, muttering under his breath from the pain.

"He's not; we fought the shapeshifter and turned him into a big Popsicle again in your top-secret bunker we found using your third journal." Lee suddenly piped up.

The Author jolted and spun on his heel, taking in the three children, blinking in surprise, as if only just noticing them. He smiled a little, pulling out the first one. "You've read my journals?" he asked.

"W-we haven't just  _read_  them, we've  _lived_  them!" Ford exclaimed, starting to get excited. "I have so many questions-"

He was interrupted by a quiet squeal. All turned to see Grunkle Abel clutching his wrist, eyes screwed tight in pain, leaning heavily against the back wall. "Yep, ow . . . not good . . ." he grumbled under his breath, though he sounded . . . less like himself. More . . .more something. None of the younger boys could quite lay their finger on it.

The Author was by his side in a moment, gently pulling that arm out of his tight grasp and pushing the sleeve up, gently feeling it. "What happened, Mabel?" he asked quietly, concern and worry clear.

"Mabel?" Ford asked in confusion.

"But, your . . . your Grunkle Abel." Lee followed up, both staring up with identical looks of confusion.

The Author gasped, a hand going to cover his mouth in shock as the other jerked back, flinching when reached for. Sobs began to shake his(her?) shoulders, tears falling.

"You took my name?" the Author asked softly in shock and concern.

"Y-your not our . . . our Grunkle?" Lee squeaked in shock, while Ford laid a protective arm around his shoulders. Fidds hovered just behind the two, anxiously watching to see what would happen next, keeping his mouth shut for once.

"N-no . . ." Mabel replied softly, hugging herself one-handedly, the other pressed lightly into her stomach. The voice was feminine, no longer deep, booming, or even spoken so softly it seemed shy or hesitant by nature. "I-I . . . I'm sorry . . . " she whispered, closing her eyes, the one arm tightening it's grip on her chest. "I n-never meant to h-hurt anyone . . ."

"It's okay Mabel, sh, it's okay," Abel, their real Grunkle, gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards a clearer, smoother pile of debris, sitting her down next to him. She turned to cry into his chest, while he patiently reassured her and rubbed her back. He lightly beckoned the other three children over, and they sat more-or-less at their feet.

Ford couldn't quite wrap his head around it. The whole summer so far . . .Grunkle Abel, er, Great Aunt Mabel, Grauntie Mabel? Either way, she looked and sounded every part like a man, boy,  _male_ ; how? Some sort of spell? No, maybe not, but then . . . how?

And, more pressingly, why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More stuffs like this will be coming soon. But please, send in requests! I encourage and get to them all in time. :-)


End file.
